It's No Big Deal—Until It Is
by Yesm777
Summary: Adam doesn't feel great. It's probably just a stomach bug, but it only seems to be getting worse. Sick!Adam with a bit of team worry in there. Two-shot.
1. Chapter 1

_**Author's Note:**_ _Hey. Hi. Had a bit of time to write, so I wrote this thing. It'll probably only be a two-shot, but I hope ya'll like it! Thanks!_

 **CHAPTER 1**

The light of the early morning crept across the base, spilling rich pink over the dirt. A soft glow filtered through the window of the little building, and the old kitchen brightened in the warmth. Most of the special ops team slept on, barely stirring in their bunks.

Today was Saturday.

And Adam felt terrible.

He stared out the window, blinking harshly against the dim light of the early morning. Aches poked at his body. A chill crawled through his bones. And while that was miserable enough, the worst part was the rising nausea and pain in his gut.

Normally, he'd be starving at this time in the morning, but right now, even the thought of food made his stomach flip.

He wanted to crawl back into bed, but he wasn't the type to give in to something as trivial as a stomach flu. Besides, the team would be up soon, so it was time to get on with the day.

Adam heard a whine from outside, a soft scratching at the corner of the entrance. Patton. The team leader pushed through the plastic flaps they called a front door and wandered out, greeted eagerly by the playful dog. Patton's tongue hung out of a comical grin, his brown eyes bright in the morning light.

"Hey there, buddy." Adam reached down to pat Patton's head, wincing when a pulse of pain echoed through his abdomen. Patton's tail stopped wagging, dropping as the lean canine gazed up at his favorite human.

Letting out a groan, Adam straightened, grimacing when his stomach complained. He thought about telling McG about it when the medic woke up, but then he figured it could wait until it was a real concern.

His eyes stared out at the rising pink line on the horizon, and he hunched over a little as the pain grew. Hell, whatever this was, it was awful. It was probably just a little bug. Most likely, it would pass after a couple of days. But it still sucked.

Adam took a few steps along the side of the building, shivering as a chill ran up his spine. The familiar sound of Patton's paws pattered beside him, sticking close to his side. Adam smirked at the dog's unwavering loyalty.

A sudden wave of dizziness washed over him and he stopped, reaching out to the wall to steady himself. The nausea and pain ratcheted, and he took deep, measured breaths to quell the increasing queasiness.

It was no use.

He bent over as his stomach emptied what little it held. The abdominal pain spiked, and he pressed an arm against his stomach in a desperate attempt to keep it in check. But he immediately pulled his arm away when the pain got worse with pressure. With the taste of acid still in his mouth, he sunk down to a crouch, curling around his middle.

There was a warm lick on his face, and a cold nose nuzzled his cheek affectionately.

"I'm fine, buddy," Adam huffed, blindly reaching his other arm around to rest on Patton's head. The two of them stayed still for a moment, Adam breathing slowly and steadily while Patton simply stood as silent support. And just as the pain dulled to an uncomfortable throb, Patton slipped from Adam's reach, trotting away.

So much for unwavering loyalty.

As he fought to get his lightheadedness under control, Adam could hear Patton scratching and whining at the door behind him. He frowned, unsure of what the dog was trying to do.

The plastic flaps in the entry scraped softly against each other, signaling the arrival of another team member. "Hey, Patton."

Adam squeezed his eyes shut, dropping his head further to his chest. Of course. Patton really was loyal to a fault.

And it was no surprise the canine had gone looking for help.

"Top?"

Heavy boots stepped toward him, slow and cautious.

Adam inhaled deeply. "Hey, Preach."

There was a beat of silence as Preach absorbed the scene in front of him. After several seconds, a heavy hand fell on Adam's shoulder, a quiet concern in the gesture.

"You all right?"

Adam swallowed, feeling the heat of nausea in his stomach. "Fine enough."

Lips pursed, Preach looked at the pool of sick in front of the blond, exasperation already setting in. "I think it's safe to say you're not fine."

Adam shot him a tired glare.

"Come on, let's get you inside," Preach sighed, moving to help the team leader.

"Wait, wait, wait," Adam muttered. He closed his eyes. "Just give me a minute."

The older man stopped, backing away as he folded his arms. Adam looked pretty flushed, and Preach had felt the heat of a fever through the team leader's shirt. McG would be up soon if he wasn't already, and Preach was admittedly anxious to get Adam inside.

Without warning, Adam bent over further, just in time for another round of vomiting. Preach grimaced in sympathy, looking elsewhere.

When Adam was finished, he leaned his shoulder and head against the wall, worn out and miserable.

He looked dreadful.

Preach moved to pull Adam upright. "If you were this sick, why did you get out of bed in the first place?"

"Not sure," Adam answered curtly. Pressing his lips together in disapproval, Preach placed his hands firmly under Adam's arms, pulling just enough to get the man standing. Adam swayed, and Preach was quick to throw an arm over his shoulders to keep the team leader steady.

"Well, next time, stay in bed," the older man grumbled, and the two of them moved slowly toward the door. Adam was quickly losing energy, his feet stumbling over the dirt as Patton followed dutifully beside him. Once they reached the door, Preach swept the plastic flaps out of the way and carefully helped Adam inside.

With a sigh, the older man looked apologetically at Patton. "Sorry, boy. You're going to have to stay outside." There was a soft whine as the older man retreated into the building, and Preach couldn't help but feel a little guilty.

"What's going on?"

McG stood at the hallway entrance, looking somewhat alarmed as he took in the troubling scene. "Top?" He took a few quick strides toward Adam, his hand already raised to feel the team leader's neck.

"It's fine," Adam replied weakly, the abdominal pain throbbing in a sea of nausea. If he was being perfectly honest, this was pretty close to bodily hell. All he really wanted to do was drop into bed and sleep the misery away. But McG didn't have to know that.

McG exhaled heatedly, shooting Adam a stern look. "You've got a pretty high fever." The medic glanced at Preach. "Let's get him sitting down at least."

Preach helped Adam into a seat at the kitchen table, the younger man slouching gratefully.

"I'm going to need some information," McG prodded, crouching down and taking Adam's wrist to check his pulse. "Any other symptoms? Aches? Nausea?"

"Nausea for sure," Preach interjected.

A heavy breath rushed out of McG's mouth as he checked Adam over further. "How long has this been going on?"

Adam stayed silent, not wanting to give in.

McG glared. "Top. How long."

The blond huffed, looking down at his lap. "Didn't feel right yesterday, but it was worse this morning." There was a swirl in his stomach, and he swallowed heavily.

A frown dug into McG's features, and he did his best to stay calm. "And I'm just hearing about this now?"

Adam shrugged, wincing when it pulled at his stomach. "Didn't think it was a big deal."

"Dammit, Top. You've got to take better care of yourself."

The sound of opening doors and light footsteps caught Preach's attention, and he looked up to see both Jaz and Amir coming down the hall.

Jaz came to a stop as she peered into the kitchen, Amir doing the same just behind her. She stared at Adam's back for a while, watching McG work. "What's going on with Top?"

"Top's caught himself the stomach flu," Preach answered gruffly.

She crinkled her nose, stepping further into the room. "Yuck." As she passed by, she turned to look at Adam, her expression morphing to one of worry when she caught sight of him. She slowed to a stop, giving Adam a onceover. "You okay?"

"Fine," he sighed, closing his eyes.

Jaz squinted suspiciously. "Definitely not okay." Amir looked on with his own look of concern, his brow furrowed.

Ignoring the newcomers, McG stood up, glancing at Preach. "Okay, Top. Let's get you back to bed." Preach stepped in without a word, helping Adam stand. The two of them headed down the hall, Adam swaying dangerously as he leaned on Preach.

"Is he gonna be okay?" Amir asked, watching as McG snapped up a small trash can from the corner of the room.

A sigh breezed from the medic's lungs, adding to the already tense atmosphere. "If he does what he's told and takes it easy for a while, he'll probably be just fine."

"Who knew a stomach flu would be the thing to knock Top on his ass?" Jaz muttered, moving to grab a bottle of water from the fridge.

Amir looked thoughtful as McG collected his med kit, the small bucket still in the medic's grip. "If you think it would help, I could make a ginger tea. Could help with the nausea."

McG stopped for a moment, mulling the idea over. "You know, that wouldn't be a bad idea." And with that, he disappeared down the hall, med kit and trash can in hand.

"He really looks terrible," Amir mumbled, moving to the shelves to grab a small pot.

Jaz sat on the kitchen table, taking a small sip of water. "Yeah, but McG said he'd be fine."

The ex-spy spared her a glance, half suspecting she was saying it to comfort herself. It used to be his job to read people, and right now, it was pretty clear she was trying too hard to stay emotionally uninvolved.

"You're probably right," he muttered.

As Amir busied himself with making tea, Preach came back into the room, looking troubled.

"How's our fearless leader?" Jaz asked casually, taking another gulp of water. There was something unsettling in Preach's eye, and Jaz found it difficult to wave it away.

He sighed. "Not great." Preach hooked his thumbs in his belt loops. "Top's temperature is high, and it seems worse than a stomach flu to me."

At that, Amir looked back. "To you? What do you mean?"

A mild tension buzzed through the air as Preach took a seat at the table. "I've known Top for a while, and I think we all know he's more stubborn than most." There was a pause, and the silence weighed heavily on their shoulders. "With how much time we spend together out here, I've seen his share of sick days. Usually, he just pushes through it and only takes a break when he really needs it. But this is different. Something isn't right."

"Well, maybe it's just a worse strain than he's had before," Jaz suggested, her fingers tightening around her water bottle.

Preach shook his head. "No, something's not right. I can just…tell."

There was a small splash as Amir dropped ginger into the heating water, and the three of them let the quiet linger as they fell into their own thoughts. Amir wasn't sure what to think, deciding that he'd wait for McG's own diagnosis.

But for Jaz, all she could feel was the unavoidable knot of unease in her chest.

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"I could give you something for the nausea."

Adam gently shook his head, breathing deeply as he squeezed his eyes shut. He couldn't remember the last time he felt this bad, and truly, he was too weary to get upset about it.

The medic stood in the doorway, watching Adam with his arms folded. There was a sense of helplessness watching the team leader curl up on his bunk, a thin blanket draped over his feverish body. Adam refused any sort of treatment, and there wasn't much else McG could do but encourage hydration and let the thing run its course.

Just after he was settled into bed, Adam had thrown up again, barely grabbing the bucket in time. And while his fever was high, McG didn't think it was high enough to warrant a visit to the emergency room.

Hell, Adam just looked so sick, and McG hated that he was stuck sitting by and watching.

"I'm going to grab you some water and be back to check on you in a bit, alright?"

Adam didn't say anything. He just pulled the blanket tighter around his shoulders.

Whatever this was, it had a mean bite. Especially if it had Top down for the count.

McG turned toward the kitchen, clenching his teeth. When he'd woken up this morning, the last thing he'd thought he'd be doing was taking care of a sick Top. What worried him the most was that Adam hadn't even put up a fight when Preach had dragged him back to bed. Normally, the blond would try every excuse in the book to avoid treatment and pretend everything was fine. This time, he wasn't pretending everything was fine.

Three pairs of anxious eyes turned to look at McG as he walked into the room, each of them holding their own questions.

"Top's pretty sick," he admitted, opening the fridge to pull out a water. "The guy's burning up, hardly talking, and the nausea's pretty bad. You said he threw up twice outside, Preach?"

"As far as I could tell," the older man replied, shrugging a little.

"I'm not entirely sure what this thing is, but all we can do right now is keep an eye on him and make sure he's hydrating." McG rubbed at his eyes with a sigh, then looked at Amir with an apologetic grimace. "He wouldn't drink the tea, so I'm going to try and get him to drink some water for now."

The other three team members watched the medic head back to the hallway, the bottle of water gripped tightly in his hand. Jaz decided to follow, feeling anxious.

As McG entered the room, Jaz hung back in the doorway, content with observing. Adam looked even worse than he had before, his pinched expression practically screaming discomfort. She wrapped her arms around her torso, her worry rising.

"Come on, Top. You've got to drink something," McG coaxed, offering the open bottle of water. Adam shook his head, his lips pressed together in clear rejection. Putting the water aside, McG placed a hand on Adam's forehead. "What's going on with you, man? Is it just nausea? Is there something else?"

Jaz chewed on her fingernail, feeling increasingly powerless as she watched.

"It hurts," Adam growled, shaking his head.

McG was instantly on high alert. "What hurts? Tell me what's going on."

"Stomach," Adam ground out.

Without hesitation, McG stood and pulled the blanket down from Adam's shoulders. Jaz's posture straightened in high alert, and she took a few steps further into the room. "What's going on?"

Pushing Adam's arms away, McG started pressing gently on Adam's stomach, moving around to check different areas. When he moved to Adam's right side, the team leader cried out, curling tighter.

McG immediately looked at Jaz. "Get Preach. We've gotta take Top to the hospital."

Alarmed, she ran out of the room to the kitchen. "Preach, McG needs you."

Preach didn't waste any time bolting from his seat toward Adam's room, Jaz and Amir following close behind. McG was already pulling Adam out of bed, and Preach moved in to help support him.

"We've got to get Top to the hospital before it bursts," McG huffed, walking quickly to set the pace. He and Preach were hauling Adam between the two of them, aiming for speed rather than care.

Jaz and Amir stayed close to their heels, growing increasingly worried.

"Before what bursts?" Amir asked breathlessly, looking between McG and Adam.

They managed to get through the main room and were just about to push through the front door.

"His appendix," McG yelled over his shoulder.


	2. Chapter 2

_**Author's Note:**_ _And here is the final chapter. As a note, I've never had appendicitis, so I simply did my best with what I could find in my research. Thanks so much for reading!_

 **CHAPTER 2**

Adam growled in angry pain as they hauled him along, more frustrated with the discomfort than defeated by it. None of them were surprised. Like most everyone else on the team, Top didn't like weakness. No matter what it was—illness, injury, emotion—he'd fight it just to remain in control.

And this team mentality was the bane of McG's existence.

Preach and McG loaded Adam into the backseat of the team SUV, Jaz and Amir circling around to the other side. Patton stood some distance away, simply watching them pile in with flat ears and a low tail. Preached spotted him as he climbed into the driver's seat, and he felt a pang of sadness for the thin dog.

Once everyone was safely in the vehicle, Preach tore his gaze away from the loyal canine and skidded off to the hospital. Somehow, Jaz had ended up next to Adam, her hand resting worriedly on his bent over back. His hands were clenched into fists, his head bowed. It hurt enough to know he was suffering. It hurt more to watch it happen.

Jaz glanced at McG in the passenger seat, worried eyes meeting anxious ones. It was frightening how quickly a bad flu had turned into appendicitis. A controlled panic had fallen over the team, and they were all doing their best to hide away their messy feelings.

Things like this weren't supposed to happen on base. Other than the odd cold or bruise, this was supposed to be their safe place.

Jaz found herself absently rubbing circles on Adam's back, a rare nurturing gesture. Even with Preach's urgent driving, they were still several minutes from the nearest hospital.

They were some of the longest minutes she'd ever experienced.

Adam was breathing rapidly through the pain, his body tense. She wished she could do more than offer a comforting presence. The bloodless white of his fists was unsettling, and she couldn't seem to tear her eyes away.

The minutes ticked by at an agonizing pace, and she continued to rub small circles between his shoulder blades, reminding him that she was there. That he wasn't alone.

They were getting close now. And once they handed Top off to some capable hands, they could all hopefully relax.

Today was Saturday. It was supposed to start with Amir's big breakfast and a round of team teasing. They were supposed to be sitting around a table, perfectly healthy and keeping their minds off the ghosts of past missions.

This Saturday wasn't supposed to be…this.

The vehicle squealed to a stop, and McG was out of the car before any of them could react. Preach slipped out shortly after, running into the hospital as Amir climbed out of his seat.

McG was already helping Adam out of the back, Jaz following behind the team leader to lend her support. Once she'd slipped out of the car, she draped Adam's arm over her shoulders as she stuck close to his side, and she and McG moved quickly toward the doors. Ahead of them, Amir held the door open, making it easy for them to maneuver inside.

A couple nurses helped get Adam onto a gurney. And as soon as he was situated, they set down the short hallway.

The team watched Adam disappear behind double doors, quickly overcome with a feeling of helplessness.

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McG sat back in his chair, his arms folded and his eyes glued to the ceiling. After all those times Top was kicked, punched, and whatever else in the abdomen, _this_ was the time his appendix decided to cause trouble. And of course, Top didn't say a word about it until someone noticed. Typical Adam Dalton.

It was like pulling teeth to get Top to admit any kind of injury or illness, sometimes even when it really mattered. In a lot of ways, McG felt like the team's health was his responsibility.

And damn, did they make it difficult to fulfill that responsibility.

What killed McG was that he hadn't noticed anything yesterday. When Adam had admitted to feeling off the day before, McG was somewhat taken off guard. He hadn't noticed anything unusual about Top's behavior.

And that was the thing. These people were far too skilled at hiding pain and sickness. McG knew it was their own need for control and power—he was one of them, after all. But he couldn't help but wonder how many bandages had snuck past his notice, or how many bruises or cracked ribs had simply gone unmentioned.

Knowing the team—especially Top—probably a lot.

McG lifted his head up, taking a moment to look at the team. It was normally Adam's job to offer moral support in a time like this. He had a silent strength that was easy to rely on. Just having him in the room did wonders for troubled feelings.

For now, Preach had taken his place, offering his own silent strength as they waited impatiently in a small waiting room. It wasn't so much worry as it was an anxiousness to see Top healthy and pain-free. As soon as they'd made it to the hospital, they felt fairly confident that Adam would be fine.

But the weight of the morning's events still blanketed them, and the image of a pained, feverish Top was fresh on their minds.

Jaz could only think of Adam's clenched, bloodless fists.

"How long before we know something?" Jaz asked, shifting restlessly in her chair.

McG leaned his head back, closing his eyes. "Just give it a little time."

Huffing, she folded her arms.

Amir looked at his watch. "It's only been forty-two minutes."

"But who's counting?" Preach muttered with a small smile. Amir scowled, tugging his sleeve over his watch as Jaz smirked to herself.

"It shouldn't be much longer," McG murmured, lifting his head up again. "Appendectomies don't take a lot of time."

"Besides, some practice in patience could do you good," Preach said warmly. "You won't get far without a little patience."

Jaz sighed, looking to the ceiling. "Don't start with that now, Preach."

Amir and Preach smiled as McG chuckled, the small break in the bleak a welcome distraction. But after only minutes, the gloom returned.

Amir perked up when he saw a man in scrubs heading their way. "Guys." The team looked up, shifting forward in their seats as they eagerly awaited news.

"Captain Dalton is fine," the man reported as he approached. Jaz nearly crinkled her nose. It was weird to hear Adam's formal title. "The surgery went smoothly; there weren't any complications, and the recovery should be quick. The anesthesia hasn't quite worn off yet, but you're free to sit with him if you'd like."

McG stood to shake the man's hand. "Thanks, doc."

"Of course. I'll have a nurse walk you back."

The doctor waved a nurse over and talked to her quietly before bidding the team farewell. Generally restless, the team followed the nurse through a few short hallways, finally coming to an open door.

"He's just through here," she said softly, gesturing into the room. "It might take some time for the anesthesia to wear off, but if there are any problems, don't hesitate to let us know."

Preached thanked her as the team filed in, all of them strangely reverent. They stopped at the foot of the bed, taking a moment to just absorb.

Top looked a lot better. Peaceful, even. The flush of a fever had faded, and the harsh lines of pain had been replaced by the lax expression of unconsciousness.

Adam was fine.

He was missing an appendix, but he was fine.

Jaz let out a heavy sigh before moving to drop into an empty chair. "Nobody else is allowed to get appendicitis."

"Agreed," McG grumbled, pulling an empty chair from the corner of the room.

Preach smiled, shaking his head. "I'll get a couple more chairs."

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"So now blood is running down one side of his face—it looked like something straight out of a horror movie—and he's starting to sway. There's blood dripping on his shirt, getting on everything. By now, McG is freaking out—"

"I wasn't freaking out."

"You were definitely freaking out. I remember a lot of shouting."

"Because he wouldn't sit down!"

Amir grinned, watching the back and forth between McG and Jaz. Somehow, they'd stumbled on Top's legendary attempts to play down injuries. And apparently, Adam had quite the penchant for avoiding treatment.

"So McG is freaking out, tearing open bandage packs, and Top just looks at him, squints, and says, 'It's just a scratch.' McG went super quiet, and his face got hella red. I thought for sure he was going to rip Top a new one."

McG sighed. "Luckily I didn't have to because he _finally sat down_."

"I would've too if you looked at me like that," Preach chuckled. A smile broke through McG's scowl, growing into a grin.

"Glad to know I have some power over you morons," McG teased, shocking a laugh out of Jaz.

"Ouch." A chuckle rippled through Jaz's voice as Amir and Preach smiled broadly.

After such a long, stressful morning, it felt great to laugh. And it felt good to be with the whole team, feeding off each other's support and good vibes.

It was Saturday after all.

"Good hell…could you keep it down?"

Everyone paused, their gazes shifting to the bed. Adam's bright eyes stared blearily at the ceiling, still adjusting to the light of the room.

He was awake. He was awake and pain-free.

With a long breath, McG leaned forward in his chair. "Party's over, guys. Top's back."

Adam smirked, closing his eyes. "Gee, thanks for the warm welcome."

"Top, I told you not to eat McG's burritos," Amir deadpanned. Adam let out a huff of laughter, a wide grin on his face as Preach and Jaz joined in with their own hearty laughter.

McG simply smiled, shaking his head. "Low blow, Amir. Low blow."

"Just keeping you humble," Amir shot back, a small upward curve to his lips.

"But seriously," Jaz interjected. "How're you feeling?"

Adam raised his eyebrows, breathing deeply. "A lot better."

"Funny what a little appendix can do to a person, huh?" McG muttered, leaning back in his chair.

Adam frowned. "Appendicitis? Hell, I figured if I hadn't had it by now, I never would."

"It has a way of sneaking up on you," McG replied, folding his arms as his smile faded a bit. "Doc says the surgery went smoothly, and you should make an easy recovery. But I wouldn't push it too much for the next few days."

"Top? Pushing it?" Jaz scoffed. Amir and Preach chuckled.

"I don't think he's got a choice," added Amir. "McG will be watching him like a hawk."

The medic offered a tight smile. "You're damn right I will."

With a slight smirk, Adam closed his eyes. "Quit being such a mother hen," he croaked, a tired wave washing through him.

He simply laid there, listening to McG's sputtering and the team's laughter.

And he wouldn't have it any other way.


End file.
